


On the Correct Usage of Kitchen Tables

by NamelesslyNightlock



Series: a hug by any other name [3]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Amused Andy | Andromache of Scythia, Anal Sex, Breakfast is Ruined, Coitus Interruptus, Dirty Talk, Dramatic Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Fluff, Humor, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani Is A Little Shit, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani is an Incurable Romantic, Kitchen Sex, M/M, Nicky | Nicolò di Genova Cooks, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Poor Nile Freeman, Sex, Smut, Table Sex, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:13:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26948014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NamelesslyNightlock/pseuds/NamelesslyNightlock
Summary: Joe knows that Nicky doesn’t like to be disturbed while he’s cooking. But of course, he’s going to disturb him anyway.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: a hug by any other name [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1960834
Comments: 40
Kudos: 333





	On the Correct Usage of Kitchen Tables

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MidnightGardener](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightGardener/gifts).



> Sooo for this prompt I started something with feels. And it was getting too long. So I wrote this instead, and while some people might claim that it shouldn't count for the prompt, I am claiming that it still does, and that's what really matters here. The prompt was requested by **MidnightGardener** on tumblr, thank you and I hope you enjoy it ❤︎  
>   
> If you would like to request one of the prompts from the list, ask me [here.](https://quietlyapocalyptic.tumblr.com/post/631328284256468992/i-am-once-again-going-to-attempt-to-practice)  
>   
>  **Prompt** — _10_ , Hiding-your-face hug.

Joe knows Nicky doesn’t like to be disturbed while he’s cooking. That doesn’t stop him from doing it anyway.

Usually, Nicky won’t mind _too much_ if Joe curls his arms around Nicky’s waist, leaning against his back to press a kiss between his shoulders.

He’ll probably mind if Joe starts sucking on the skin at his throat, teasing it with small nips of his teeth. And he’ll _definitely_ mind if Joe slides a hand further down, pressing it between Nicky’s legs and gently stroking the slowly hardening erection.

Of course Nicky will _mind._ That’s exactly why Joe does it.

“Amore mio,” Nicky says, his voice a little strangled. “If you do not stop, I will burn the eggs. If that happens, no one will be pleased.”

“Perhaps,” Joe admits. “Or… perhaps _I_ will be.” He grins as he feels Nicky harden further, as he hears the catch of Nicky’s breath.

“Yusuf—”

“ _Nicolò._ I woke up wanting you, but you weren’t in my arms. I waited, thinking perhaps you might come back.”

Nicky is tempted. Joe knows that he is—he knows that particular tension in Nicky’s shoulders, he knows that twitch of Nicky’s jaw.

But—

“Andy and Nile have gone for a run. They will return—”

“It won’t take long, my love. I have prepared myself already. All you need do is get inside me.”

Nicky moans, the sound deepening as Joe shifts closer, pressing evidence of just how _much_ he wants Nicky against the cleft of his love’s ass.

“I need you, Nicolò,” Joe breathes. “You’re not going to make me wait, are you? After all that time I spent in our empty bed, opening myself with my fingers, wishing you were there? Imagining you inside me? Will you oblige, hayati, or am I to finish myself off with only the mere shadow of memory to bring me pleasure, rather than yourself?”

Nicky’s head slips back onto Joe’s shoulder, a shudder in his breath.

“Nicolò,” Joe whispers, curling his hand around the gorgeous bulge in Nicky’s pants, kneading it gently. “ _Please.”_

Joe only has time to grin as Nicky spins, his hands pressing tightly into Joe’s hips. He walks Joe backward until he hits the edge of the kitchen table. Their pants are removed quickly, and Joe gasps as their skin slides together—no matter how many times they do this, the thrill always remains, that same electric feeling that races across every nerve and leaves him only wanting _more._

Firm hands spread Joe’s thighs and he opens them willingly, hooking his feet behind Nicky’s hips. He braces himself against the tabletop as one of Nicky’s fingers probes his entrance—already slick with lube, just as Joe had promised.

“You will be my death,” Nicky groans.

“Really?” Joe asks. “I cannot say the same, for it is you who makes me feel alive.”

Warm lips claim his in a kiss and he moans into Nicky’s mouth, the slide of their tongues heightening his arousal—and then his moan cuts to a gasp as he feels the head of Nicky’s cock against his hole.

“You said—you wanted it to be quick,” Nicky whispers, almost _broken._ Joe knows it’s Nicky’s explanation—knows how Nicky loves taking his time, loves watching as Joe comes apart, teasing him for sometimes _hours_ before even touching his own cock. But this time…

“I said I _needed_ you,” Joe corrects. “ _Now,_ amore, don’t—”

Nicky slams inside him in a single thrust, hard and fast, so the edge of the table digs into Joe’s skin. The bruise won’t last, and the slight pain just feels fantastic.

As promised, Nicky wastes no time—and Joe is left to hold on in desperation as Nicky begins a fast pace, thrusting hard enough that Joe slips backward. One of Nicky’s hands grips Joe’s hip, the other the table, and Joe can’t help but bury one hand into Nicky’s hair, threading fingers through sweaty strands.

“Fuck,” Joe swears as Nicky hits deep enough that he loses all sense, the sensations Nicky tears from his body all he knows. “Nicolò, hayati, non fermarti—”

Joe’s words stop at the slamming of a door, and—

“Whoa— _guys,_ we eat on that table! What the _hell!”_

Nicky groans and buries his head into Joe’s shoulder, his whole body lost to a shudder. Notably, he does not pull out. Joe feels like squirming, his cock hard and _aching_ between them as he looks over Nicky’s shoulder at Andy and Nile.

“Oh,” he says hoarsely. “Hi guys.”

Andy smirks—Nicky’s arms shift to hug Joe against him, face still hidden. Joe knows that Nicky’s not embarrassed. Time had long since pulled any sense of embarrassment from both their minds. Perhaps it's because Nile's still cursing—or, more likely, because every twitch Joe makes has Nicky’s breath sharpening. Joe can _feel_ the tension in Nicky’s body as he tries to keep from moving.

“Well, don’t just complain,” Joe says. “Stay and watch, or leave us to continue in peace.”

Nile almost _flees,_ throwing a quick ‘sorry’ and a ‘fuck you guys’ behind her.

But.

_“Andy.”_

She just raises an eyebrow, and does not move from where she’s leaning against the doorframe.

“You said I could stay and watch,” she says—but her smirk’s teasing, and by the time Joe opens his mouth, she’s already leaving.

“Nile is right, though,” she tosses over her shoulder. “There’s disinfectant below the sink.”

Joe rolls his eyes. Then he rolls his hips. He’s worried the mood’s been ruined—but when Nicky lifts his head, he’s not blushing. And the look in his eyes has Joe’s cock twitching before he lifts his hips once more, bringing them up to meet Nicky’s slow thrust.

“You said you needed me,” Nicky echoes from earlier. “Still?”

“Always,” Joe replies. “Can you go faster—”

“Oh, amore mio,” Nicky smirks. “There is no need to be fast now. And for what you did… I’m going to make this _last.”_

Joe groans.

Breakfast burns.

No one cares.


End file.
